August 14, 2011

Sometimes when you live abroad, it’ll just hit you like a sack of hammers —
“I would do anything right now for a Viva Salad from Joey’s with a Lotus.”
OR
“I could really use those 800 thread-count sheets I had, even though they’d never fit on my bed here. But they’d be oh-so soft…”
OR
“What I wouldn’t give for some Quaker’s Instant Raisin and Spice Oatmeal.”

It’s not always about food, but it normally is.

Don’t get me wrong; Germany has come a long way since I first moved here, and it hasn’t even been that long. When I first got here, you really had to hunt for peanut butter, it was a nightmare trying to find tampons with applicators (sorry dudes), and finding skimmed milk was also something that required constant vigilance.

Now not only are all of those things no longer problems, but things are BETTER. You see, the thing is, there’s very little you CANNOT get in Germany these days. That is, if you’re willing to pay for it. I mean, as I recently learned, you can even hike down to Karstadt and find Reese’s Peanut Butter cups on a good day (!!). You can get fake cheese slices from Real (!!), which, though they don’t taste near as good as Kraft and the smell will give you a good test of deep-breathing-to-avoid-vomiting after a hangover, they’re pretty good for grilled cheese sandwiches. And Lidl even has American weeks (!!) where they have proper chocolate chip cookies and other not-good-for-you awesomeness.
Teas (though Brits may disagree with me here), candy, chocolate, appropriate-sized pillows… It can all be had here now for a price. Because if the supermarket doesn’t have it, a speciality one might. And if that specialty one doesn’t, it could very well be at the English shop. And furthermore, if not there, there are a number of mail-order “Food from Home” type companies who will charge you an arm and a leg for your heart’s deepest desire.

So, what you end up missing most is the cheapness of Walmart and restaurant food. Mostly.
Today’s craving? Cinnzeo. I don’t know what it is, but I was walking back up to my flat after taking Max out this morning, and… WOW.

I want a Cinnzeo cinnamon bun like nothing else right now. Gooped-up with lotsa icing. It doesn’t help I can’t stop remembering when I was working at the bank and the newbie brought us cinnamon buns (I think for my going-away party). And they were SOOOO delicious.

Gah.

(And, you know, if I had an oven in this flat, I wouldn’t even have to complain because I could make a mockery-type substitute. I mean, I love baking. Why in the world did the baker not get an oven for her new flat? Oh, right. Because she was cheap and thought “I can just get stuff at the bakery here. I don’t have to make it myself anymore.” Completely forgetting, of course, the JOY she gets from baking.)